Traitor
by peace and joyce
Summary: The finale of the Leah Wishart trilogy. She has seen off Careers, but the fight is far from over; and Leah must face an unknown enemy, and something greater than the arena...
1. Rats

Smooth, slightly crinkled. The old can of aggression gas that the Gamemakers used on us is the most painful reminder of the destruction of the past weeks. The Careers may have kidded themselves that they rule the arena, but in the land of the blind the one-eyed man is king (courtesy of my Aunt Emmeline, who had loads of them to say) and here that's the Gamemakers. This little mottled piece of metal is proof of that. I've moved my camp to a set of cliffs near the edge of the arena, and they create a pleasant, sunny hiding place. And it's there that I make my stand.

Gripping the can; I thought of all that it had caused. Berenice, Euler, the boy from 4, an entire Career pack brought down by one can of chemicals. Nobody's invincible, not against the Capitol.

And then I did something that, these days, would have me instantly blown up. I picked up the can, warmed by the late sun, and with a cry of frustration and guilt-driven grief, hurled it over the edge of cliffs, where I watched it bounce down to the bottom. I sure never liked Berenice, or the rest of the Careers, but it didn't feel right that we was treated like animals, trapped and tricked, like animals. Changed by mind-altering drugs, beyond all recognition.

I couldn't stay there for much longer, knowing that the vile can was just a jump away. I moved further inland, and set up camp in the shade, at last confident that my enemies were miles away. That night I dozed over dinner, the anthem having played without a death.

That's when they came. The rats.

Huge rats, filthy rats! One streaked past my ankle and I could feel the grease on its fur. They leaped around and went straight for my pack. They scrabbled with their tiny but sharp claws. I snatched the bag out of reach, and a tear widened. At the smell of a corner of bread that stuck through the hole, the rats eyes bulged and they leaped up higher, snatching at it. Experimentally I tore a piece of bread off and threw it onto the ground. The rats raced for it, trampling on each other in their haste to grab it, so hell bent on the bread they completely ignored the few strands of warm left over from dinner.

They must be trained to smell Capitol smells, I thought. Just like them mutts with the big noses that chased after the Capitol perfume. I pulled out the rest of the loaf and threw it to them. They burrowed furiously through the dry crust. Distracted, I grabbed my sword and hacked away at the loaf until it was red with blood. I went mad with the frenzy, like Berenice hacking at the boy from 4. I jabbed and stabbed and chopped and hacked until I couldn't see a single rat, just a clump of stinking flesh and bread. I couldn't stand the sight of the living things any more. I didn't need aggression gas. The rats had already sent me into a seething rage.

It wasn't until after the rat mutts had been banished from the arena that finally I saw the reason for it. The rats would steal and eat the Capitol food provided in the packs and stacks of the Cornucopia. It won't be long before we have to fight for food. The Capitol wants a victor, and quickly.

The 12th Annual Hunger Games, are coming to an end.


	2. Mall's Flight

It was two days after the death of the last Careers, when I saw her.

It was back on the cliffs, at the edge of the arena, where it felt like only yesterday that I'd thrown away the empty gas can to spite the Gamemakers. She was thinner than before, and her hair was frizzier, but she looked kinda happy.

"Leah," she said.

"Yes Mall?" I said back, happy to see her but not sure what she was doing. Just standing and looking over the cliffs.

"I want you to win."

This made me nervous.

"Whaddya mean, Mall?" I asked. "You could yet win. I'm not gonna kill you right now; and you have a chance too. Don't give up yet."

She shook her head and turned back to the cliffs.

"I figured it out." She said to me. "And if I don't move, the Gamemakers will."

"Figured what out?" I felt real cold and all, I didn't like this conversation much.

"The arena." Her eyes went all glass like, like she had an idea. "And what they're doing to us."

"Explain." I sat down on a rock and she smiled when I moved up for her; but stayed standing.

"Each trap and trick they play on us is designed to target our weaknesses. Each one is loosely linked to a human flaw."

"Ok."

"I need your experience to figure out each weakness, and to test my theory."

"What theory?"

"Have you ever heard of the historical Seven Deadly Sins?"

I remembered vaguely, I think Aunt Emmeline once told me when she was cross that I was Sloth or something.

"Sort of."

"Pride, Envy, Sloth, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed and Lust."

"What would the Gamemakers care about that?"

"It's their game plan, their way of designing traps for each flaw- as they see it, the flaws are Vanity, Jealousy, Laziness, Anger, Obsession with Food, Greed and Cowardice- or at least, that's what I think they think. Now, the bloodbath must be Greed, wanting more than you need. The other six-"

"Vanity- those mutts that tracked perfume." I was beginning to get the hang of this.

"Obsession with Food- the rats that ate the Capitol food."

"Anger- the aggression gas."

"Any idea what cowardice was?"

I thought of the marshes. "The eel mutts; that sneaked up on people who hid in the reeds and bit those that moved."

"That leaves Laziness and Jealousy."

I thought of the girl from 6, who slept so heavily and the Careers that were so tired they was asleep long enough for me to set a trap.

"Maybe set up something that might- make folks sleep?"

She frowned, dividing her face into lines. "Perhaps- a pod? That makes you sleep heavily and for long periods of time?" She got real sad all of a sudden.

"That only leaves Jealousy." She said hoarsely, talking real quiet.

"So?"

"There's three of us, Leah! They'll expect us to have two gang up on one, kill them and turn against each other. And I don't want any of us to gang up, it's not fair. It's about time the game is fair. If we don't make a team soon, they'll force us, with whatever jealousy pod or mutts they plan."

"Why don't we be allies, then? You and me?"

She shook her head, and tears splashed the rock.

"Then it would be just the two of us, in the end, we'd have to kill. And I can't kill!"

"We'll work it out."

"Don't you understand! It has to end like this! It's the only way we can stay sane, stay human!"

"I don't know what you mean," I said, close to cryin' myself. I did know exactly what she meant, and I didn't like it. "I'll miss you Mall."

"Win for me, Leah."

She turned to the cliffs and took a tiny step closer. From somewhere outside the arena, a bird with big white wings, spread out and flew over our heads, and Mall smiled at its progress. She leaned up on her toes, as fine and fluttery as the bird in flight, she spread out her wings. She leaped up, flyin' a swan or like a plant that leans towards the sun, and for just a moment she was there, shinin' like a mirror in the sun, her coat billowing slightly.

And she dropped like a stone.

"No!" I cried, though it was too late, there weren't nothing I could do. Mall was out of my hands.

The moment she was dashed on the rocks, the cannon sounded, and I knew I was alone now. I looked over the edge to where she lay, and then I wished I hadn't,

There she was, all splayed out, like a dolly thrown down the stairs. Her head was red at the back, but her face was pale, her mouth slightly open but her eyes closed.

I couldn't move. When the hovercraft came for her, her head faced mine, her jaw floppy like she said something to me, and I knew she was sayin' the same thing she had said to me.

Win for me.


	3. Know Your Enemies

**Thanks to a handy reminder from Happiness and Hamsters, (you go buddy!) some events were never explained. Apologies for the slight time jarring, but at least the mentioned event is hopefully explained. Apologies, again, for my awful scattiness!**

I couldn't sleep that night, so I just curled up in my tree and thought of Ribbon, and our ill-fated alliance that had seen off Careers but had meant we would have to be divided. I thought of the incident which had caused me to lose faith in any silver parachutes because this Games wasn't fair, and after Mall had explained the formula for the entertainments, I was sure it still wasn't fair. Because somewhere out there, someone was trying to get rid of me, and it wasn't a tribute.

THE DAY BEFORE THE DOWNFALL OF THE CAREERS

Ribbon had proved to be a good ally. Mall was my friend over the Games, and I liked her personally. But Ribbon was an alliance of convenience. I had supplies, so she owed me for that. I had a short range weapon, for hand to hand combat- and she had a long range one. Sure, her range weren't that long, but she could use it when I couldn't. It was time to be a player in the Games, not running and hiding. I had blossomed from the battlefield; and of the- only five! Left I had the best chance. Had I not already proved my worth to the sponsors? Surely Dalia could easily get me some, with a little encouragement. Ribbon was puzzled at our lack of support. (She had no sponsors either.)

I thought of the mysterious _he _that the Careers had talked about, when the arena was their oyster and their alliance was intact and untouchable. Had _he _actually stopped all sponsors getting anything through altogether? I didn't really wanna know.

Ribbon and me, we talked long and hard about how we would get rid of Varnish and Sparkle. Mall was never mentioned, I didn't ever bring her up and Ribbon didn't really care much about her for the moment.

Ribbon had just come up with some witty remark about dropping a boulder on them in their sleep, when a little silver parachute fluttered in and I sat stock still. I didn't dare move in case I jumbled all my thoughts around in my head. What was a parachute doing here, for us, after all this time? What could it possibly contain?

Was it from- _he?_

Ribbon looked past me to the gift.

"Oh, Goody, sponsors!" she said. "'Bout time!"

"Don't move it!"

She was confused. "What's wrong, Leah?" she asked.

"I can smell peanuts!"

_"Peanuts?"_

That's what having Georg as your brother does. He tells y'all random stuff 'cause he knows it. I learned a lot from Georg, some pointless, some invaluable.

"Well, " I said, as I picked up the parachute and shoved it in a saucepan with the lid on "There's a chemical called gly-glyce, well there's a chemical in peanut oil " dump a big rock on top of the saucepan, walk away very quickly . "that's also in something I really don't fancy as a sponsor's gift, and that's-"

BOOM.

"Dynamite."


	4. Wilderness

The peace that the death of the Careers had brought was gone now, with Mall dead. No more tributes to hide behind, no slipping away unnoticed. I would quite happily call for a draw, say that we would both take first place and split the victory. But that was out of the question; the Capitol was always adamant. Only one victor.

The day after Mall died, I noticed immediately that the arena had changed overnight. The leaves on the trees were weak and brittle, and the amount of coverage to hide behind had gone down one hell of a lot. I walked down to get water, and found nothing but dry ground. The message could not be clearer; we needed to hurry up and give the Capitol their next victor.

But that didn't fit with my plan. I wanted to fight Ribbon on my own territory. I wanted her to make the first move. Partly because I didn't have no first move.

So until she showed up, I would just have to hang on and hope she'd hurry up. I had several cartons of water from my hoard of supplies, but that would have to be rationed carefully. I had to start preserving water. I mustn't sweat, cry or talk to myself. I kept to the shade, out of the sun as much as possible. I was grateful that my French plait (that was falling out) covered most of my neck, and I found a handkerchief in my blue bag (which by now was coming apart at the seams from all the weight.) I tied it around my head and began to wait.

After 6 hours, there was no sign of any animals, so my plan of getting water from meat went out of the window. No fruit either. My worms had turned tail and headed further underground for water. The ones that I could find had died trying to find water. I sure didn't hope that would happen to me. I didn't eat them worms, 'cause I'd promised myself never to eat anything you find dead, 'cause you don't know what killed it.

This wasn't the arena I knew. It was a wilderness, completely empty.

Everybody I cared about in the arena was gone, and only bitter memories remained. Their deaths kept coming back to me: Mall, the girl from 5, Georg- even Georg's allies, the girls from 6&10. Other moments came back- the Fidgety boy from 12, the girl from 4 killing the boy from 5, the boy from 6, ripped to pieces, the boy from 3 who died of compassion- so far they've faded to the background, but with loneliness in the present and more killing and confrontation in the future, it was the past that kept coming back.

And Georg. My brother; my best friend, for whom no amount of revenge would make me feel better, no amount of glory or winnings would ever compensate my loss. I didn't want to die to end it all, but I wished it had never happened, that the reaping had never happened, or even that Granddaddy Abernathy had succeeded in his rebellion, and there were no Hunger Games. I knew now why they were called the Hunger Games. There was a whole in my heart that no amount of survival or eating could fill. Only now did I realise that, on the brink of survival or certain death.


	5. Unravelling

Two more days of uncertainty followed, and I was sure that something had to be done before one of us died of dehy- dehyd- just plain old lack of water. I was pretty sure that I had had more water than Ribbon, and there had been no sign of a parachute in the cloudless sky, but what if the water came at night? I had a nightmare fantasy of Ribbon laughing her heads off, one hand pouring gallon after gallon of water down her throat, not caring if she spilled any, while her other hand tore open more and more gifts- gifts of weapons, medicines, tools, food- everything.

There's this thing about the last day in an arena in any Hunger Games. Y'all know when it's gonna happen. And I knew it, on the last night that I went to sleep under the empty sky in the arena.

I thought that I had seen it all; I thought that I was prepared for what would happen in the morning. I wasn't.

I woke up, and he was standing there. Georg, all lit up by the early light.

"Georg!" I completely forgot where I was, dropped everything and ran to my brother, as I always had.

But something was wrong. He felt all wrong. He wasn't never my brother as much a cardboard cut-out. They'd taken his body and sucked the personality out of it. No matter how much he looked like Georg, he weren't never my brother. His eyes stared straight ahead, and there was like an invisible wall around him. He was holding hands with a similar zombie version of the girl from 10, and also with the boy from 8. Together, the lines and lines of dead tributes holding hands formed a wall that blocked off half the arena. I got it. Ribbon and I, we was being pushed together.

I stared at Georg for ages, and then walked down lookin' at all the dead tributes holding hands. I found another Georg, completely identical further down the line, but as I reached him he started to talk to me, and he spoke words I never thought I'd hear Georg say.

_"You betrayed me when I needed you the most"_ he said. _"You abandoned me and fled rather than to save me."_

I couldn't bear to hear it. The girl from 10 resumed the torment. _"You destroyed our alliance, left us to die and blood ties mean nothing to you. You have no heart."_

I ran on past the zombies, each one reciting terrible things that I had done to them. Even tributes I had barely spoken to tore me up with guilt.

_"You trapped me into a death I didn't deserve, killed by my own allies" "You smothered me to death in my sleep" "You didn't save me" "You didn't save me" "You threw a mutation at me, which ate at my insides""You gave me an agonising death" "death.." "...death."_

Before long I was on my knees, begging them to stop. I ain't never felt so bad in my entire life. I was so weak, Ribbon could have stuck me with an arrow there and then.

But she had problems of her own. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her, pleadin' with somebody who could have only been Mr Cotton Reel, Aron.

She looked so broken. On her knees, grabbing at his feet, sobbing her heart out. I couldn't stop myself.

"It's a mutt, Ribbon!"

She turned around, and her face went all horrid. It was like she couldn't stand to see me. It wasn't like the time she scowled at me on the night of the interviews. It was like she wanted nothing more than just to kill me right there. She got to her feet, staggering a bit and I saw just how dehydrated she was. She reached for her bow, and I ran for it. I ran and ran all along the edges of the zombie wall, past the grabbing hands that wanted to reach out to me and drag me down. I ran until I had the sun beating on my back. Ribbon was squinting now, against the sun. She was real dizzy, and it ain't easy to see someone with the sun in your eyes. Still, she stayed where she was and started to aim her arrows at me.

I had to work hard to dodge them; and one almost killed me 'cause I had to sort of deflect it with my sword.

She took her last arrow, but her arm was losing strength, she fired and it fell short about halfway between the two of us.

I looked at her. She looked at me. We both looked at the arrow. We knew what it meant. It was as good as the Victor's Crown. If I got to it before she did, she would be hopeless against my sword. But if I failed, then Ribbon would be close enough to get a clear shot to my head.

We raced for it. I weren't naturally fast, in fact I was as slow as one of them armadillos, but I'd had more food and water and Ribbon weren't doin' too well in all that heat.

We reached it at just the same sort of time. Ribbon flung herself onto the ground and snatched at it, but I put my foot down on the arrow. As her fingers grazed my shoes, she looked up.

She saw my sword almost before I did. The last time she looked, she looked in fear. Her eyes widened as I raised my sword. She didn't try to run. She didn't try to save herself. She knew it was over as much as anyone. She knew that it was the end of the line.

She looked at me, as if in surprise. Her eyes seemed to say; "It'll be you then."

And then I brought it down. My sword, on her neck.


	6. Welcomed

Blood. So much of it; I never thought it would be so messy. Her face was unrecognizable through all the blood, and it spilled everywhere, on her clothes, on my shoes, on the ground. And in the puddles I saw my own reflection. A wild hysterical girl who had lost everything and gained everything.

Victor. I tried the word out. It seemed so strange, and I couldn't really imagine it myself. Leah Wishart, victor. The first victor who was not from a Career District. The first Victor from District 9. Great glory- and great grief. I don't think my life is ever going to be the same again.

I heard a deafening roar and I started, reaching straight away for my sword. I forgot that I was alone; I thought it was a mutt or another tribute.

"Who's there?" I shouted. "I got myself a sword."

Then I heard a laugh, real loud. Oh. It was just the crowd in the Capitol, cheering as they do in every Hunger Games, over the speakers. Oops.

A hovercraft came, but it landed right next to us. And running out, right into the arena, was Calpurnia. She beamed at me, but right behind was an Avox girl carrying a sheet.

"So good to see you!" said Calpurnia still smiling at me. She put her arm around me and led me to the hovercraft. But I looked around, and saw the Avox cover Ribbon with the sheet, red blooming through the white, like the autumn poppies unfurling on the side of the road in District 9. I can't see those poppies now at home without seeing her.

I couldn't think until we were out of the arena, and over the sea towards home. A doctor came every now and again and tested me, did this thing with a cuff that squeezed my arm and looked in my ears and eyes and everything.

We get back about afternoon and the first thing I do is go straight to my bedroom. I put Georg and the last night I stayed here completely out of my mind. I ignore it even when I think I can almost see Georg in the corner of my eye.

I've been pretty much wearing a hospital gown this entire time, so the sight of my tribute outfit sends me into a fit of rage. On top of the pile is a note from Dalia.

_I will be visiting you tomorrow. I expect you to wear this. _

I pick up the pile of worn fabric and head straight for the study where there is one mother of a paper shredder. Capitol card in those days was particularly thick, and it had strong jaws for crunching and tearing up paper. Without a preamble I stuffed the hated outfit into the paper shredder and pumped the handle until only frayed fibres remained.

There was a notepad on the side with a pen attached, so I reached for it and in a fit of insolence scrawled a note for Dalia.

_And I expected you to have a heart. Looks like we both get to be disappointed._

An Avox came in with mail so I gave her a note and asked her real polite and all ('cause Aunt Emmeline always said to be polite to hard-working types) to take it straight to Dalia. She nodded, and left without moving a face muscle.

At the end of the day, a victor is a glamorized Avox who can be speak. We both have to sever the Capitol without choice, and we are bound by what we say or don't.

The Avox had left a small card, white with blue edging. I picked up and read it, twirling the perfect white rose that came with it.

_Dear Miss Leah_

_Congratulations on the previous Hunger Games. You showed tremendous courage and resilience, and thus you have earned my respect like nobody before you. I wish you all the best in the weeks to come, and I await your presence in the Capitol with much anticipation._

_Congratulations again and best wishes._

_Yours faithfully_

_Coriolanus Snow._

I didn't get what half of it meant, but I knew he knew that I didn't need to. Somebody was on my side, and soon I would realise just how big that somebody would be.


	7. Plot!

Dalia was spitting nails from the moment she showed up unannounced. I'd been woken from a doze I had been sustaining for half the day, so I wasn't best pleased and having been woken up.

She cut to the chase. "What the HELL were you thinking?!"

I bolted off the sofa in a surly bad temper. "Oh I don't know, Dalia maybe trying to stay alive for two weeks in the Hunger Games is a stupid idea! Maybe trying to win and stay alive isn't at all sensible!"

"Don't. Patronize. Me."

"Shut up then." I crossed my arms angrily and flopped back down again.

Dalia looked like she about to pop.

"For God's sake!"

"Leave Him out of it," I snapped. "He deserted this country long ago."

"You wouldn't just DIE!"

I paid more attention to her after that. Hang on. She's not supposed to _want _me dead.

My confusion only makes her angrier.

"Oh, like you didn't guess who sent you that dynamite? Like you thought after a week in the Games you could still be logically sponsorless? Like you thought I would be so neglectful undeliberately? Although with you," she snorted and looked down her nose like I was something she'd picked up someplace unfortunate. My whole world had changed, but Dalia sure hadn't. "Any mentor would be hard pressed."

"You lied to us! You lied to _Georg_!" I couldn't get this out of my head. Sure, she'd been a right holier-than-thou _cow_ to me; but then I'd kinda been a bit of rude cow to her too. The feeling was mutual, but Georg- he had trusted. He may have liked her only as much as I had, may have been a bit cheeky to her- but his life was on the line, so he trusted her. And the whole time, she had plotted against us.

"Tell me about the sponsors."

"What?"

"The sponsors! How many did I have?"

"After you backstabbed the Careers? 37. The Snow boy was particularly keen."

37. Thirty-seven missed oppurtunities.

_"That'll take the wind out of her sails..."_

"You set them up didn't you! You deliberately told the Careers to go after me and Georg!"

"Of course I did! I wanted no mistakes- except you. I offered them all of your sponsors if they got you as quickly as possible. "

_"He'll get his way" "He always does."_

Berenice's words hit me once again.

"You stopped their sponsors. Until they got rid of me. You didn't even make it fair for them! You didn't make it fair for any of them."

"Of course not."

It all comes together for me. The whole time, behind the scenes, Dalia was undermining me. I will punish her. I will _break _her.

"Who's your boss?"

"What?"

"Who were you working for! Who told ya to bring me down? Who?!" I run at her, I pull her hair and wring her neck, I'm weak but anger completely controls me and hurting her is all I want.

She's obstinate at first, but annoyance and pure hatred makes her spit it out. Literally.

"CASSIUS CRANE!"

I let go of her like she's suddenly turned into the electric fences in Nine that keeps the rabbits out.

Cassius Crane. President Crane. President of goddamn _Panem._ And he wants me dead.

I'm so stuffed.

But there is one more thing. One more question I wanna ask. The one I always ask. The one word that causes so much trouble; particularly with those who do not know the answer, or don't wanna say.

_"Why?!_

Dalia looks exasperated, like it's a stupid question. Well, I may not be the brightest of sparks, but I know when something's big. And any question with something so big sure ain't all that stupid.

"Tell me Leah," she says with a sigh. "Of all the past eleven Games, from which districts have their victors hailed?"

"One, Two or Four."

"Yes. Did you mention Nine on that List? Or Six, Three or Ten? Or even Twelve, that dump. No you did not. All the victors have been Careers. That has been the way it always been, for a reason. This more than a Game, Leah!"

"That's what I was told it was."

"Can't you see the symbolism? The subliminal message? Everyone loves a good story, especially when the ending is nice and simple and unchanged. The Careers are Panem, the Capitol. Sure, they're arrogant, ill-educated and crude. But the point is, they are bigger and better than the rest. And they always win, and always will continue to do so. But of course, nobody banked on Leah Wishart coming along and upsetting the pattern.

" And the President had a commission for me. Your precious "granddaddy" started this all. It's not the done thing, to leave your district and start afresh in another. We don't want the public to travel, they will see other districts and spread word. The last thing we want is another uprising. The whole point of the Victory Tour is so only the Victor knows, and keeps their mouth shut through blackmail and coercion.

"So your granddaddy, conscious of the head on his shoulders, signed a contract. In exchange for a chance to better himself, one boy and one girl between the ages of 12 and 18, to be reaped- from his own descendants."

"_Mitchie? Mitchie _started all this?"

"Not intentionally. He had no idea it would be a brother and a sister. That was President Crane's idea. For the most exciting Games ever!"

"So they would have torn my family apart, broken my father's heart- for _fun?_"

"And there was little hillbilly Leah, thinking the Fates had turned against her, when all the time her own name was alone in the reaping bowl. But wonder no more. My next move, you have anticipated throughout this entire conversation.

We had reached the dining room by this point. Just as she reached for her knife, I reached for mine.

Now I really must protest. Sure, I'm about to die, but must it really be so farcical? She has the equivalent of a sockin' great meat cleaver- and mine is completely blunt. What am I supposed to do, butter her to death?

But I had no time to debate this idea, 'cause she was after me as fast as anything- that's fast.

I ducked under the table, not too pleased to find it was made of glass and then I found I was right next to an Avox button. I rammed it and rammed it until my thumb was red.

Several more minutes went on of her trying to kill me and me trying to avoid being stabbed, swiped, lacerated, and smashed (she was getting pretty inventive) and whatever else she tried. She coughed and collapsed on the floor gasping for breath just as Tamora came in.

Avoxes aren't allowed to carry weapons, and she knew she'd be killed if I gave her one, so she sneaked like an old shadow behind Dalia and pinned her arms from behind by the elbows.

The meat cleaver was right at the corner of the table and before I'd had a chance to grab it Dalia's snatched it by the blade, mangling her hand in the process- and she stabbed Tamora in the throat.

It was the most brutal killing, I should have given her a weapon and let her be executed for it, and it would have been quicker for her. A horrible way to die, choking to death on her own blood. She wasn't even allowed the dignity of a scream. Her mouth twisted into a hideous red oh shape. She couldn't shout her agony, but we all felt it.

It's one of the privileges of being a Victor, you can watch the deaths of Avoxes. I've always turned the chance down. To do so would be an insult to Tamora and what she did for me.

I couldn't save her, but I had my chance to get even with Dalia. At last I found a goddamn smash-worthy vase and took a sort of odd satisfaction in her knocking her out with it.

Moments before she was led out to her hanging, I had my move. I had my justice. I visited her cell lonely as a ghost, and said two words. Two words from Georg, Mall, Ribbon, Varnish, Sparkle, Berenice, Euler, Tamora and gawd knows who else. And maybe two words from me too.

"Game Over."


End file.
